When she’d been seventeen, the only way she could fight for her son was to give him up. But she wasn’t seventeen anymore, and it was time to find out, once and for all, if she could ever have a place in his life. She’d take whatever he’d give her. A Christmas card once a year. A smile. Something to tell her he’d stopped hating her. The fact that he didn’t want her near him had been brutally apparent each time she’d tried to contact him since Maida’s death, and it had been even more apparent today. But maybe she just hadn’t tried hard enough.

She thought of Molly and felt a chill. Lilly had no respect for females who preyed on famous men. She’d seen it happen dozens of times in Hollywood. Bored, wealthy young things with no life of their own tried to define themselves by snaring famous men. Molly had trapped him with her pregnancy and her position as the sister of Phoebe Calebow.

Lilly got up from the bed. During Kevin’s growing up years, she hadn’t been able to protect him when he needed it, but now she had a chance to make up for that.

Wind Lake was a typical resort village—quaint at its center and a bit shabby at the edges. The main street ran along the lake and featured a few restaurants and gift shops, a marina, an upscale clothing boutique for the tourists, and the Wind Lake Inn.

Kevin parked and Molly got out of the car. Before they’d left the campground, she’d showered, conditioned her hair, used a little eye makeup and her M.A.C. Spice lipstick. Since she only had sneakers, her sundress wasn’t an option, so she’d slipped into light gray drawstring shorts and a black cropped top, then consoled herself by noticing that she’d lost enough weight to let the shorts ride below her belly button.

As he came around the front of the car, his eyes skimmed over her, then studied her more closely. She felt an unwelcome tingle and wondered if he liked what he saw, or if he was making an unfavorable comparison with his United Nations companions.

So what if he was? She liked her body and her face. They might not be memorable to him, but she was happy with them. Besides, she didn’t care what he thought.

He gestured toward the boutique. “They should have sandals in there if you want to replace the ones you lost in the lake.”

Boutique sandals were way out of her price range. “I’ll try the beach shop instead.”

“Their stuff is pretty cheap.”

She pushed her sunglasses higher on her nose. Unlike his Rēvos, hers had cost nine dollars at Marshall’s. “I have simple tastes.”

He regarded her curiously. “You’re not one of those penny-pinching multimillionaires, are you?”